


Better to Have Loved

by Yeah_JSmith



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Allison Appreciation Story, Allison Gets Shit Done, Allison Looks Inward, Allison is the Best, Ambiguous/Open Ending, And All the Ickiness That Implies, And Might Come to Like What She Sees, But hardly any, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Loss, OK Google How to Tag, Post-Canon, Protective Allison Hargreeves, Rumors, Sibling Love, Some Elements of Comic Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-15 20:04:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18676513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeah_JSmith/pseuds/Yeah_JSmith
Summary: Allison isn't stupid, and she's done taking orders from men who think the best way to solve a problem is to punch it. So, even though it might mean sacrificing her own happiness, she saves the world, and her sister, in her own way: by starting a rumor.





	Better to Have Loved

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: unreliable narrator, author has no children of their own so the description of "love for a child" is basically just a guess, Luther/Allison was canon but that doesn't mean author has to like it or keep it in, author made their own explanation of how Allison's powers function, author alludes to Reginald's "otherworldliness" in the most BS way, author scrimped on physical descriptions for the sake of brevity, author didn't want to create a deep, detailed personality for a character who appears for five seconds so Ben just doesn't say anything.
> 
> Basically this is just an excuse to have Allison do questionable stuff and still be self-aware. That's allowed, right?

_I heard a rumor,_ she thinks, _that you killed the world._

Allison Hargreeves isn’t stupid. She may not have earned everything she had before the end of the world — the lavish house might have been rumored down in price just a bit, she might not have gotten her first role unless the directors had heard a little birdie say she was perfect for it, that kind of thing — but she always knew when and where to best apply her powers. Leverage, not brute force. Strategy is just as important as mathematics.

So when Luther looks down at Vanya, sweet little Vanya in her schoolgirl uniform, with that round face and soft body, and asks what they should do with her — _do with her,_ like she’s a thing, a problem they need to fix — Allison knows. She knows instinctively, immediately, that there’s no problem to punch. And she knows that as much as she loved Luther once, he’s as foreign to her as Harold Jenkins was to Vanya. The Luther she loved as a girl would never have ordered…

...Well, maybe he _would_ have. Maybe Allison herself is the one who changed, humanized by time away from the Academy and an entire life with a husband she only rumored a few times and a child she really did love more than anything or anyone else in the entire universe. Claire is why this is going to be _so goddamn hard._ This is going to be the hardest thing she’s ever done, but it’s worth it. Every horrible, painful second without Claire will be worth it, because if she doesn’t do this, the world will die, and take Claire with it, over and over and over.

She knows this, because she isn’t stupid, and she isn’t one of her emotionally-stunted brothers who only know how to either throw punches or run away.

“Vanya’s asleep,” she says quietly, and gestures to the rest of the group. “We all should be. None of us are in the right state of mind to make that kind of decision. We’ll have a vote in the morning when we’re _all_ awake. Vanya included.”

“But Allison, she-”

“Don’t make me rumor you, Luther,” she says tightly, angrily, and he draws back as though she’s slapped him. She presses on anyway. “It’s Vanya’s _life._ The whole goddamn problem was that she never got a choice. It was _you_ who re-traumatized her, and it was you who didn’t give me a chance to talk her down. As far as I’m concerned, it was you who killed the world. Who killed Claire.”

It hurts to say that, because it isn’t true. But it kind of is, too. Allison has never needed protecting, but she’s never done much protecting, either. If she’s going to sacrifice the love of her life, she might as well do some good for more than just herself. And yeah, she’s a hypocrite. _That’s_ not exactly old news. She can deal with that.

She stomps into her room, refusing to listen to anyone else’s suggestions. She’ll rumor the whole academy if she has to. She’s going to save the world, and she’s going to save her sister, and nobody’s going to get in her way.

* * *

At their base form, Number Three’s powers are based on a psychic effect on the vibrations of reality, according to Reginald Hargreeves. Even Five never understood what that meant, and Allison doesn’t understand it either, but what she does know is that Reginald Hargreeves’ reality is not the one most people live in. As Allison grew up, she began to develop limited control over the state of objects connected with a person’s observation — one time, a door even became soft enough for Klaus to break down on his own when she started a rumor that it was, though she still hasn’t been able to replicate that feat — but Reginald never interacted with her rumors correctly. He could not have broken down that door, because his conscious mind was able to, within a certain limit, remember the truth.

His subconscious mind is a different story.

His door doesn’t creak, because he would never tolerate something like that in his house. His bed is big and looks ridiculously old-fashioned, but she ignores the strange aesthetic in favor of looking at his face. Even in sleep he looks cranky. He deserves this. He _does._ She deserves it, too, and Vanya deserves it, and Klaus — they _all_ deserve it. She leans forward and drags out every bit of power she can muster as she whispers, “I heard a rumor that you realized it was logical to train the Umbrella Academy together at all times to make them a cohesive team. I heard a rumor that you decided Number Seven is old enough to train her powers again. I heard a rumor that you realized how dangerous medicating Number Seven is. I heard a rumor that you realized happy children are more useful than hurt children. I heard a rumor that you realized your training methods were harming the Umbrella Academy.” By this time, the only thing keeping her from crying is the rumor, which has as much of a hold on her as it does on Reginald. “I heard a rumor that you decided to secure the Umbrella Academy’s loyalty by letting the children have some of the freedoms that ordinary children have. I heard a rumor that you refused to believe anyone who suggested Number Three was anything less than loyal to you.”

The best rumors take the mind to a logical conclusion. Yeah, convincing an all-white production team that a black actress’ natural hair will make the movie better is probably not something that team would come up with on their own, but all she has to do is make that connection; their minds will fill in the rest with talk of marketing, aesthetics, appeal to underrepresented demographics. None of her whispered rumors are illogical, and in fact, may have already been considered, if Grace is any indication.

She does not hear a rumor that he loves them, because that would stretch the bounds of imagination too much.

Childhood isn’t going to be easy. Reginald is still going to be Reginald, irritable, demanding, harsh. He might regress a little, because his mind is slippery, like it doesn’t quite belong here. She can always rumor him again. People are usually more susceptible the second time. But Allison isn’t stupid; she knows they need him. He knows what they all can do. He’s been taking notes and recording them. He might even have some form of low-level precognition, considering his foreknowledge of an apocalyptic event. She can’t change who Reginald Hargreeves is; she can only apply leverage.

“I heard a rumor that you overslept,” she adds spitefully, a parting shot before she goes to her own bed.

* * *

Reginald Hargreeves oversleeps, and Allison smiles to herself as she calls a family meeting, _sans_ Pogo, of course, and Grace isn’t invited because her coding would compel her to tattle to Reginald, but the rest of them gather in Vanya’s room. Vanya herself looks scared and resigned to whatever fate they decide for her, and that makes Allison’s good mood disappear. They’ve all been shit siblings. It’s a good bet that all Harold Jenkins had to do was tell Vanya she was mildly pretty, or that she was reasonably good at playing the violin, and she would have thought him the most charming man in the world even if everything else about him was disgusting.

“I guess we all agree it’s time to address the giant-ass elephant in the room,” says Klaus, as tactful as he always is. He looks strange, dressed in his uniform the way they all are. Even the first time they were children, they never stood in a circle like this, the seven of them, like a real team. In some ways, that makes this harder. The rest of her siblings might hate her after she admits what she did. Vanya might hate her. Hopefully they’ll see that it was necessary.

“I already did,” Allison replies matter-of-factly, lifting her chin in defiance — let them _try_ to disagree with her choices.

Predictably, there’s a lot of spluttering, mostly from Luther, a little from Five, and a high-pitched noise of confusion (but not dissent) from Klaus. Vanya shrinks into herself, Ben raises a disdainful eyebrow (that’s right, he _was_ a bit of a brat), and Diego...well, Diego’s face is doing a thing. He looks constipated, which isn’t unusual for him, but he has several different constipated looks, and she’s not sure which one this is. It doesn’t matter. Allison covered her bases. Even if one of them goes to Reginald and tattles on her, he won’t believe them.

“Allison,” says Five finally, “it was _your_ idea to put it to a vote.”

She doesn’t call him a hypocrite, because that wouldn’t add to the discussion at all, but she’d like to. After all the secretive, shady shit he pulled just before the world ended, he has no right to make that point. So she simply smiles at him and says, as sweetly as she can, “I did what I had to do to keep you all safe.”

“What did you _do,”_ asks Luther warily. He looks so small now, more human. She hopes he can stay that way this time. Maybe grow up to be the man she thought he was, the man she thought she loved. Right now she’s not sure she _can_ love anyone. Did she ever rumor Luther? She can’t even remember.

She rumored Diego into showing her how to kick like he does.

She rumored Five into helping her with her homework.

She rumored Ben into not throwing stuff into her hair.

She rumored Klaus into not stealing her nail polish.

She rumored Vanya—

 _Jesus._ She probably did rumor Luther into some favor or other. She knows she’s rumored Pogo into saving little treats for her. She’s never rumored Grace because Grace’s coding doesn’t allow for it, but she even rumored the doughnut lady at Griddy’s to forget they were ever there.

But she can make up for her mistakes now. “Last night I went into Dad’s room and started some rumors about the Umbrella Academy. I told him he decided that we were more useful if we were happy and had some freedoms. I told him he realized it would be less dangerous if he started training Vanya again, and if he kept us together as a team. Vanya, I...if _you_ want to take those meds-”

“I don’t,” says Vanya shortly.

“Well, I told him he decided it was dangerous to medicate you, but if _you_ decide you want them, we can just...get them on our own, somehow, and not tell Dad. I want us all to have choices. It hurt to grow up before. We need him to train us to control our powers, but we don’t need him to treat us like shit while he’s doing it. I didn’t start any rumors that don’t make sense. I only started rumors that normal parents wouldn’t _need,_ because it’s just...parenting. We all have special needs, and like it or not, Dad can keep us safe from the rest of the world until we’re old enough to-”

“We’re _already_ old enough,” Five says. His voice is dark. So is his face. He makes thirteen look awkward enough without the added weight of his experience with sanctioned homicide lurking just below the surface, but she doesn’t back down the way she might have were she really as young as she looks now.

“Of course we are,” she tells him patiently. “You’re 58. The rest of us are 30. Mentally, we’re all more or less capable of going our own ways, but speaking as a parent, there are laws about runaways, Five. If we showed up at a youth shelter, they’d be legally required to report us to CPS. If we just...fended for ourselves, we’d be in danger. Do you expect me to rumor every physical adult we come across? Are you going to jump away and leave us like you did before? Do you expect us to stay under the radar letting Luther and Diego just beat up anyone who tries to make us come back here? Maybe Ben and Klaus could work together with their ghosts and monsters to rip apart anyone who sticks their nose in. Or, hey, maybe your bright idea is to make Vanya train her powers on whatever well-meaning sap comes calling?”

There is silence. Allison knows she’s being cruel. She also knows that she’s right.

“I agree with Allison,” says Diego, the first words he’s spoken since they arrived from the broken future. The stutter has resurfaced, with heavy transitions and uncertain vowels. Another little reminder of Reginald Hargreeves’ less than stellar parenting. Allison may have rumored Claire — God, _Claire,_ she’s never going to see her little girl, and just like that her heart rips in half again, but she refuses to show any of the screaming agony on her face — but at least she built her up the old-fashioned way too. She focuses; Diego’s still struggling through his idea. “We need help. And Mom…”

Of course. Grace is the only person he can trust right now. His own siblings let him suffer, and his girlfriend…

Eudora Patch is, what, eleven? Twelve? And Diego is 30. By the time they’re both physically legal, he’ll mentally be 36 or 37. He has an entire set of memories of her that will inform their interactions. It might even make him come off as a total creep. Allison, at least, has a _chance_ with Patrick; she isn’t due to meet him until she’s 21, and he’s physically ten years older than she is, and due to her selfishness during their courtship and marriage she hardly knows anything about him. It’s probably not going to happen. By the time she’s all grown up, she’ll be a different person. The pain of losing Claire will probably ease over time, and she wants to focus on helping Vanya. Helping everyone become functional. They’ve all lost so much to the apocalypse, but they can make new lives. New memories.

Luther won’t become as distant as the moon, and he won’t have whatever accident that turned him half-animal.

Diego will have more to focus on than the adrenaline of saving people, and he won’t feel so alone.

Klaus will have the support of his siblings, and he won’t have to turn to drugs.

Five won’t be lost to time, and he won’t fall prey to the dehumanizing Commission.

Ben won’t die, and he won’t be one of his horrors.

Vanya won’t be ostracized, and she won’t destroy the world.

And Allison…

She’s done taking orders. She may be Number Three, but only on a technicality. She’s going to learn to embrace her rumors when necessary, to de-escalate as needed, to solve her non-Academy problems without her powers. She may have lost Claire, but she still has a chance to have a family, and she’s going to seize that with both hands.

She smiles at Vanya. Vanya smiles back shyly, but genuinely. She can start by being the sister she always should have been. Reaching down to clasp Vanya’s hand in hers, and ignoring the predictable in-bickering of the boys about _whatever_ their new disagreement is, she says, “After breakfast, I’d like to hear you play your violin. If you want.”

“You...you want me to play? Even after what happened?”

“It’s something you love,” she says firmly, trying to recall the parenting books she never paid much attention to, “and I love you, so I want to be a part of it. It’s partly my fault you never got a chance to shine.”

“It’s...not your fault, Allison. I was upset when you told me, but you couldn’t have known. We were _kids.”_

“Regardless, this time, you’ll get first chair early, because you’ll know that you are _anything_ but ordinary.”

“I...I’m not ordinary.” Vanya squeezes Allison’s hand. “Thank you for...”

She knows what’s unspoken. It’s a funny thing — she feels sick and happy all at once. Vanya shouldn’t have to be thanking her for that, and Allison shouldn’t have to feel guilty about it. She has no idea what’s going to happen next. She believes she did the right thing, but maybe the Commission will try to make the apocalypse happen anyway. From what little she understands, Vanya isn’t volatile right now because she’s medicated, and there’s a very real possibility that once her meds wear off, she’ll be angry and uncontrollable. Or she’ll stay sweet, docile Vanya, just with the power to destroy worlds in her nimble hands. Allison may have doomed the world.

But it was already doomed. It’s supposed to end. If all else fails, they can try again, and in the meantime, she’s going to do everything she can to keep it from happening. So she squeezes back and says, “I love you, Vanya. You’re my sister. I’m never leaving you again. And if I ever hurt you again, it’ll be something stupid, like telling you that you look like a doughnut in your favorite dress. I _promise.”_

“I love you too,” Vanya tells her, and she believes it.

 _I heard a rumor,_ she thinks with satisfaction, ignoring the searing loss in her chest, _that you saved the world._


End file.
